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I Dreamt of the Machine

Soaring, as one does in dreams, through a black sky. The shadow of a curve passed beneath me. And from somewhere a glint of light lit the rim of a massive globe. The machine. I knew the moment I saw. It had fallen into disrepair, forgotten, now dormant and covered in a patina of dust. Could it be true? That this behemoth had been meant to save us? And from what?